by Lara Nance
“I don’t know. What if you find you can take it?”
“I swear I will break the connection immediately.” He lifted his hand to comfort her, then drew it back, afraid to show his feelings.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “Do it.”
He leaned forward and curled his fingers around her neck. Her eyes widened as his fingers palpated her warm flesh to his portal, and she drew in a quick, audible breath. The sensual treat of soft skin and downy hairs greeted his fingers. How long had it been since he had touched a woman here except to kill her? Centuries.
He swallowed, forcing himself to focus. “Okay?”
She nodded, and he initiated the channel of connection. His fingertips sucked tight on her skin and he uncurled the strands of Light in his center. He sent out a searching tentacle of energy, attempting to extract her Light. His draining strand met resistance. He intensified his focus and increased his power, unleashing every draining force he could muster. But the energy bounced back, giving him an unexpected jolt. Throughout it all, Cara never flinched. He smiled. Although he severed the connection, he let his hand rest against her neck for a few more seconds. She sighed, bringing him to his senses and he released her.
He scooted back to his safe distance and relief washed over him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed Cara safe. They could still kill her, but not by depleting her Light.
“Well?” she asked, her cheeks glowing pink in the moonlight.
“It’s true, Cara. Your friend, Emmie, gave you a powerful gift.”
She bit her bottom lip and tears welled in her eyes. “Dear Emmie.” She stood and paced away to the outer edge of the sidewalk.
“Are you all right?” He stood but did not follow.
She nodded, resting one hand over her eyes. “Yes, it’s just so kind of her. She was dying that day, and yet she struggled all the way across town to give this to me.” She faced skyward and brushed her fingertips beneath the bottoms of her eyes.
“It may be more valuable than you know,” Rolf said. There was a chance this gift allowed Cara to shield others.
“What do you mean?” She strode back toward him, her face pale but composed, and stopped a couple feet in front of him.
“I don’t have time to explain now. My men are working on how we’ll infiltrate the Takers’ headquarters and I need to help them. Are you going back to Tor and Amber’s house for the night?”
She nodded. “But there’s something I don’t understand. If you can take Light and kill Takers, why aren’t you affected by the addiction?”
“I have the ability to change the tainted Light once it’s inside me. Only an ancient can do this.”
She chewed her lip. “Oh. Well, when will I hear from you? I’d really like to understand more about this gift.”
“Tomorrow. Sleep well, Cara.” Unable to resist the lure of her ivory flesh, he brushed his knuckles down her soft cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed. He stepped away and gave her a slight bow, the warmth of her skin lingering on his fingers. She smiled and he ordered his feet to move toward the car. He slid into the seat, and she was still staring after him. His heart clenched. This was going to be very difficult.
The urge to stay with her, to protect her, tugged at his core—an ancient impulse long buried. Impossible. And yet hope flared in his heart as he remembered Sakhet saying he would have help in his fight. A reason to justify extending his interaction with Cara? Temptation or truth?
Chapter Fourteen
Cara lay in bed that night going over in her mind the interaction with Rolf. Goose bumps popped on her skin. She rubbed them and let out a big sigh. Dusty snuggled beside her and lifted his head at her activity.
“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” She ran her hand over his head and scratched behind his ears. “I’m just feeling weird.”
Heat rose in her belly and spread through her limbs as she relived Rolf’s fingers stroking the nape of her neck and the last touch on her cheek. Who was she kidding? He set her on fire just looking at her with those cool eyes full of ancient secrets.
She groaned and Dusty poked his head up. She rolled over and put an arm around him to give him a big squeeze. “I know I’m crazy. What would he see in a girl like me? He’s thousands of years old. He probably thinks of me as a baby.” Dusty huffed out a low bark. She closed her eyes and pushed Rolf’s disturbing image out of her mind.
A scrape of shoes on the floor yanked her from the blankness of sleep. She blinked to clear her vision. Miss Emmie stood at the foot of her bed. Cara placed a hand on Dusty but he slept on, unaware of their visitor.
“Miss Emmie?” she whispered in disbelief. This must be a dream.
“Yes, child. Who else do you think it is?” The old woman smiled, wrinkles creasing her face, eyes sparkling.
Cara sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe it. I thought you were dead. How did you get here?”
“Oh, don’t worry about all that.” Emmie waved a hand. She moved around to the side of the bed. She wore the same outfit as the day she died: print dress, dark blue sweater and sneakers, still carrying that black patent purse. “I’ve come to see how you’re doing and make sure you understand about the gift.”
“The gift. Yes, the gift. Oh, Emmie, thank you. I realize now what you gave me. Thank you so much.”
“I knew you would need it.” Emmie nodded with a satisfied smile. “That ol’ evil got to be stopped.” She shook a finger at Cara. “You got to help and use the gift.”
“But I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“You got to make sure them evil men are destroyed.” Emmie turned and headed for the door. “You follow your heart and everything will be fine. Just fine.”
“Wait, Emmie.” Cara stretched out a hand, scrambling to leave the bed, but her legs tangled in the sheets. “Can’t you tell me more? What do we need to do to defeat them? I need your help.”
The old woman stopped and slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. “Some things have to be figured out on your own for the magic to work. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.” She winked and shuffled out the door.
A jolt shot through Cara’s body. Her eyes snapped open. Startled, she looked around, but only darkness filled the room. She reached for her dog and her hand touched his furry back. Dusty shifted and looked at her, head tilted to one side.
A dream. But Emmie was so real. Was it a dream? Or a vision—a message from another dimension?
###
Rolf trudged to the entrance of his house, still thinking of Cara, and the door swung open before he reached it.
Sean greeted him with a smile. “I’m ready to hack into their computers. I’m certain we can do it from outside, through the cable.”
“Excellent work. I’ll draw a layout of the area and where the outside connections are.” Rolf followed Sean into the foyer. “Also, I have a way to keep the police away while you work tomorrow. We have to find out the details of the Takers’ plan if we hope to stop them.”
“Good. We’re ready. Anything else?” Sean accompanied Rolf into the living room and handed him the latest stack of messages.
“Any word from the men staking out the club?” Rolf flipped through the papers then tossed them on the table.
“All quiet so far.” Sean scratched his chin. “The creeps must be taking the night off.”
Rolf nodded. He’d been thinking on the way home from meeting with Cara and her friends. Given the unexpected magnitude of this situation, he wanted to have a way to take all the Givers out of the area in the case of an emergency. “Call the captain of Avalon. Tell him to bring her to the port in Norfolk. We may need her soon.”
Sean nodded and left the living room.
Fatigue soaked into Rolf’s bones and he wearily climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Cara kept intruding in his mind. Why would Sakhet send a mortal to help him? And one he felt an attraction to? The answer hovered there but he rejected it—the idea she
wanted him to love again. Impossible.
He removed his clothes and fell across the bed, his thoughts tortured with what he might or might not do to deal with the Takers. Maybe if he slept, Sakhet would come to ease his mind. But, in the darkness of slumber, his dreams remained silent, his questions unanswered.
Chapter Fifteen
At four o’clock, Cara jammed four quarters in the soda machine of the clinic break room, then jumped at the loud smash as the can hit the pickup tray. She leaned against the wall and closed her lids over her tired, burning eyes. Man, I’m jumpy.
“Careful, girl, all that partying will take it out of you.” Nurse Regina retrieved the diet soda and handed it to Cara. “You look beat.”
Cara popped the top of the can and took a gulp. “I wish it was partying.” Between being beat up and learning to fight, there wasn’t much energy left for work.
“Why don’t you leave early? We don’t have any more patients today.” Regina put a hand on her shoulder.
“Good idea.” Cara smiled and headed down the hall to her office.
When she reached her door, a loud male voice erupted from the waiting area, and she jumped again.
“Look, I need to see Cara Collins,” the man bellowed, voice clipped with impatience.
“Sir, have a seat. She’s with a patient right now,” Rosa said firmly.
Cara peeped around the corner three feet beyond her office where the receptionist cubicle was visible. A tall, muscular man glared at Rosa through the safety window. Cara put a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp and grabbed the wall to keep from falling as her knees gave out.
It was the same man who’d attacked Nicki. How did he find her?
Rosa had dealt with rude types before and knew how to stand her ground. He shifted on his feet but didn’t argue. He whirled around and stalked over to a chair to sit on the edge, hands on his knees.
Cara crept back to her office, heart pounding, mouth dry. She opened the door with a trembling hand. Dusty stood just inside the office, stiff-legged, growling, his hackles raised. She slammed the door and scurried to her purse for her cell phone. Shaking fingers hit the SEND button for Rolf’s number.
“Cara?” he answered after the first ring.
“Rolf, hurry. Taker in the waiting room. Same one from Nicki’s.” Heart racing, she flopped into her desk chair.
“What?”
“A Taker! He asked for me, and Dusty is growling like he did that night at Nicki’s. Please, hurry. He might hurt the people here.”
“Lock your door and stay put. I’m on my way.” The connection went dead.
She tossed the phone on her desk and rushed to the door to lock it. A good kick and it would fall apart, though. Spinning around, she surveyed the room for anything to use as a weapon.
Her desk phone rang. She clutched her chest then picked up the receiver.
“Yes?”
“Cara, there’s a guy out here, says he has to see you. He won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Seems kind of weird to me,” Rosa said. “Jittery.”
“Yes, uh, just tell him I’ll be with him in about ten minutes, tell him something to keep him there.” Her voice cracked.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine, just tied up right now. Tell him to wait.”
“All right. I’ll try, but he seems really buggy, like he’s ready to jump out of his skin.”
“Don’t confront him. Just call the police if you need to.”
“Oh, I will, don’t worry.” Rosa hung up.
Cara hoped Rosa could string the man along until Rolf arrived. She didn’t want the receptionist to confront him and get hurt. Dusty growled by the office door, she tried to pull him back. “Sit, Dusty.” But he wouldn’t stop.
Opening her desk drawer, she frantically scrounged the contents and extracted a letter opener—heavy brass with a unicorn on one end. She hefted it in her hand. It would have to do.
Shouts erupted, muffled by the door, and she jumped. She dialed Rosa’s number—no answer. Damn!
A crash echoed outside her office. That must have been the door between the waiting room and the back area. Oh God, he’d kicked it down. Her heart pounded. Dusty lunged forward, snarling.
A sharp bang and the door vibrated. Cara dragged Dusty by the collar and scrambled behind the desk. A second shattering impact and the door splintered inward, sending shards of wood flying. Cara put up an arm to shield her face, and Dusty almost pulled her shoulder from the socket, hurling himself at the Taker who crawled through the jagged opening.
The Taker stood in the shambles, breathing heavily and glaring at her, hands balled into fists at his sides. She screamed and struggled to hang onto Dusty, staggering back to stay upright. Dear God, the Taker would kill her dog if she let him go. She’d never live with herself if that happened with him protecting her.
Outside, the office collapsed into an uproar of yelling and screams. A wooden chair crashed into the maniac’s back, but he shrugged off the impact and started toward her.
She retreated only a few steps until stopped by the bookcase beside her office window. With the letter opener in one hand and holding Dusty by the collar with the other, she faced her attacker.
She wouldn’t go down easy.
The man stomped toward her, his cold, intense gaze fixed on her. “You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not.” She gripped the letter opener until her fingers hurt, and fought to keep her hold on Dusty who still lunged repeatedly, snarling and twisting.
The Taker stepped within three feet of her. Dusty reared up and his collar snapped. He leaped at the man, crunching down on his arm when it lifted in a blocking gesture. The attacker slung his arm backward, sending Dusty in a spinning arc toward the door. Then the Taker came for her.
He launched himself, hands stretched toward her neck. Cara bent her knees and thrust out with the letter opener. It caught him in the shoulder and stopped him only a few seconds. He chuckled, grabbed the weapon and tossed it away. He rushed her again and grabbed her neck with both hands. She brought her arms up between his then thrust them out to the sides as Tor had taught them, which broke the hold. She jerked a knee up, slamming into his groin.
He groaned but lashed out with a blow, a ring on his finger grazing her cheek. She stumbled into the bookshelf, putting her hand to her throbbing cheek.Holding his crotch, he moaned, but managed another attack. Dusty recovered and attacked the man from the rear, chomping down on an ankle. Cara leaped over her desk and crashed into the wall. A searing pain ripped though her skull. Metallic tasting blood seeped into her mouth, and she put a hand against her jaw. The man scrambled over the scraped top of her desk with Dusty hanging on his right leg by the teeth.
The Taker reached down to wrap his hands around her neck again, jerking her to her feet. She punched him in the stomach but his hold did not loosen. Darkness shaded her vision. She gasped for breath and clawed at his forearms. Suddenly, the man lifted up from behind, and his hands dropped from her neck. She doubled over, spent, and gasping for air.
Rolf tossed the man across the room. He crashed against the wall but landed on his feet. Shards of wood and plaster rained down around him. He stood and faced Rolf, eyes wide then the Taker stepped to the side and, without a pause, dove through Cara’s closed window. Glass and wood shards flew about the room at his abrupt exit. Rolf ran to the window. Dusty came over to Cara and licked her face. She pulled herself up on one elbow, but a shooting pain in her shoulder stopped her movement. Her throat ached. Bastards. Why did they always have to choke her?
Sirens blared and, a minute later, several policemen rushed into the room. The clinic staff gathered outside her door, peering in past the policemen. One of the cops put a hand under her elbow to help her stand then Rolf was at her side, his arm circling her waist.
“Are you hurt?” Rolf’s voice surprised her with its gentleness.
“Not sure yet.” She rubbed her left shoulder and gingerly lifted her arm in the air.
“No!” Cara pointed at him. “No ambulance.”
“Are you sure? Seems like you got pretty knocked around.”
“I’m fine. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
He eyed her skeptically. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“Some guy broke in here and demanded to see me. When the receptionist told him to wait, he went berserk and started breaking down doors then he attacked me.”
“Did you know him?” the other cop asked.
She hesitated, then said in a firm voice, “No, I didn’t know him.” She turned, searching the room. “Oh God, Dusty. Is he all right?” Her dog was by the door, the sweet pooch. Her protector. She held out her hands and he edged forward, panting and staring at her. She put her arms around him, nuzzling his furry neck, and kissed his head. “My hero.”
“Come sit down.” Rolf guided her to the only chair that survived the attack.
“Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance, ma’am?” the policeman asked.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” she said. Geez, she’d be a sitting duck there. She had to get away from here. Anxiety welled in her chest. She squeezed her shaking hands together in her lap.
“We need a little more information.” The policeman scribbled in his notebook. “Can you give us a description of the man?”
She recited as much information as she remembered. “Rosa saw him, too. You should get her input on his appearance.”
The police rambled through the clinic, surveying the damage and interviewing the staff. Cara lifted a hand to Rolf.
“Get me out of here,” she whispered. “Please.”
